


Coineanach

by Misschievously



Series: Shetland [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: But How Far Will They Go?, Explicit Later Possibly, Gen, Hannibal Loves Will, M/M, Mature Later Definitely, Obviously Some Dark Themes, Post TWOTL, They've Still Got Hang-ups but, Will Loves Hannibal, Wonderful Toxic Fluffy Mix, teen for now, they've come so far
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misschievously/pseuds/Misschievously
Summary: Post TWOTL, Will and Hannibal have been separated since The Fall and plan to reunite in the remote Shetland Islands.





	Coineanach

 

Chapter 1

Coineanach

 

 

The Shetland islands had a stark beauty in winter. Unlike rural Virginia, however, they were far less populated by deciduous forests. Just north of Scotland, the surrounding Norwegian and North seas had chiseled the cliffsides and the salty winds swept the the landscape bare until only the low grasses and shrubs remained.

There was a fairytale like quality to the remoteness here, Hannibal decided as he guided the car around another long bend of another long stretch of midnight road. A light flurry fell into the beams of the headlights as he drove. Once outside of port, the modern buildings had started to disappear, and then the charming whitewashed single family homes, until at last only stone cottages peppered the dark countryside. They sat perched squatly on a hillock here or there, as if they were guardians of the solitary lane, obscene somehow in their ancientness. He was headed beyond the sight of God’s architecture and into the desolate domain of ones much older.

Hannibal smiled at the fancifulness of the thought.

It had been three months since he had last seen Will Graham. In the first hazy days after the cliff, they had barely spoken. Too injured, too weary, and too vigilant to do much beyond change dressings, navigate the Nola towards an isolated port down the coast, and sleep in short and unforgiving shifts. From there, they had decided that Will should forge ahead to the rendezvous, being in slightly better condition, and that Hannibal would depart when an acceptable amount of time had passed. The authorities would be looking for two men traveling together.

Besides, there had been a few loose ends to tie up in Baltimore.

Two opals pierced the night from the middle of the road ahead as the headlights shone forward. Hannibal slowed, more out of curiosity than alarm. He rolled down the window to see clearly. The smell of brine and bright fresh snow filled his senses.

And _animal_ \- that particularly musky odor that belonged to all creatures of the earth, including man.

The orbs flashed and then streaked out of the road and into the night, vanishing with finality.

_A snow hare._

Hannibal blinked. His breath condensed in the cold air as he lingered a moment. Then he rolled up his window and continued towards his destination: a pinprick of light atop a swell of hills, glittering in the blackness.

\----

Hannibal had acquired _Dewer House_ nearly a decade ago when he had spent some time in and around Glasgow. It was a long, low stone cottage with white trim on the windows and front door. The grey, weathered stones were splotched with green sphagnum moss that grew between their cracks. Although the sea was not nearly in as close a proximity to the cottage as the bluff house had been, it was clearly visible from the rise.

It was dark inside and out, save for one exterior sconce by the front door. Hannibal slipped the key from his pocket into the lock and the door opened smoothly, without a sound. Once inside, he didn’t turn on the lights. Instead, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark and breathed in slowly through his nose.

The first and most apparent smell was that of the fire, burnt low in the living room. Wood and ash mingled with the scent of wet clothes, hanging off a rack in the near corner. Hannibal’s eyes slid over to a low table beside it, its surface cluttered with tools and a spool of fine fishing line. His gaze lingered on it thoughtfully for a moment before he sauntered a few steps into the sitting room.

It was relatively small with no partition from the kitchen or four square feet of entryway aside from a gold and burgundy rug. There was only enough room for two leather armchairs and a baby grand piano tucked into the corner by the fireplace. Hannibal leisurely ran his fingers along the bow of piano’s wooden waist, then rubbed them together. Dusted and wiped clean, but not polished.

He circled back towards kitchen and inhaled again.

It was clean and uncluttered and didn’t smell of refuse, only the slight citrus of soap. The cutting boards stood drying, propped up against the white tile backing. Hannibal reached over and unsheathed a boning knife from a cedar block on the counter. The dampness of the wood around the slots betrayed its recent use, but the blade was wiped dry and excellently maintained. It glinted faintly in the reflected moonlight on snow through the window. Hannibal slid it back into place and noticed the oven was on, though only on the lowest setting.

Something was being kept warm. Curious, he cracked it open and the fragrance of a simple, yet aromatic stew wafted out.

_Rabbit stew._

Hannibal’s lips quirked into a smile.

Last, but certainly not least, there was just a tincture threading through the air of that atrocious aftershave.

“Hello, Will.”

A figure shifted in the shadows of the hallway from where it had been watching the entire time.

“Hello, Hannibal.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Coineanach - Rabbit
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter probably from Will's perspective, will probably be longer. Let me know if I've screwed anything up egregiously and if you want to see more. Love y'all, time for bed.


End file.
